


Our Deathless Song

by corvids_5



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Ghosts, Mutual Pining, Secret Relationship, Song Lyrics, Vaginal Fingering, Yule Ball (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:53:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21807745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvids_5/pseuds/corvids_5
Summary: Deep in the castle there is a room of hidden things, where they say that two lovers danced.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 17
Kudos: 63





	Our Deathless Song

**Author's Note:**

  * For [emotionalsupporthufflepuff](https://archiveofourown.org/users/emotionalsupporthufflepuff/gifts).



> My works are entirely unbeta'd. 
> 
> This story goes out to a dear friend. I hope that one day we will create amazing things together.
> 
> I was heavily inspired by Parkway Drives, 'A Deathless Song' from their 2015 album titled Ire.

_August 30, 2018_

"Me?" Draco points a slim finger towards his chest. "You want me to teach?"

"That's precisely what I said Mr. Malfoy." Minerva McGonagall says, her fingers shaky as she pours two cups of tea.

This room of the Manor is small and it feels like it is closing in around him. He knows he can escape at anytime though, there are no more cages that can hold him.

"Manners die hard it would seem." Draco says as he eyes the steaming cup.

Minerva glances toward it. "Ah, yes. I do apologize." She waves her wand and the cup vanishes.

"I prefer coffee anyways," he says as he readjusts his open collar.

"As I was saying," Minerva sips her tea gingerly, "Hogwarts is in need of a new Potions Master. One of, do I dare say, the highest quality."

He eyes her with curiosity.

"I'm afraid to disappoint you Minerva," Draco walks towards the burning fireplace, it's a farce a mockery. He bends and closes his eyes and he can almost feel the warmth. Something in his mind turns, because if he is here then that means she…

“She is lonely…” McGonagall says as she sips her tea.

“Sometimes at night, I see her wandering the corridors alone.”

Draco pulled at his open collar again. Lonely, like he is.

"I'll go, but only on one condition." He finally says.

"And what would that be Mr. Malfoy?"

He turns to face his old Professor, a sly grin plastered across his face.

"It's time for The Bloody Baron to retire."

_February 14, 2019_

_It's cold,_ she thinks as she sits on the steps that lead to the Great Hall. She has already forgotten how long she has been there when she feels it grow colder.

"Merlin, I'd die for a smoke."

She hugs her center as he passes her.

"Pavla Moyes says that Valentines Day is a stupid muggle holiday."

Hermione feels idiotic as the words leave her mouth. Why would he care?

"Pavla Moyes shags Darius Flint in the broom closet outside of the Quidditch locker rooms." Draco scoffs.

"How romantic," Hormone feels a giggle bubble from her throat. She sees his cheek twitch.

They have had little interaction since the beginning of term and though she will not admit it, she craves him.

"You've been avoiding me since term started."

"There is nothing to say between us."

Hermione feels something bubble across the surface of herself because she knows that is a lie.

There are so many questions that she still has left to say, so many experiences she still feels are within reach.

“Why didn’t you do it?” she says.

“That night, you could have done it.”

She is accusing him and he doesn't like it.

_March 22, 2019_

Hermione traces the air with her finger.

"Finally not avoiding me, I see." She hums as she continues to trace the air.

"What's the point?" Draco retorts as he passes through a nearby wall. "You and I will be here long after everyone leaves."

"I suppose you are right about that," she turns and grins at him. "Let's start over shall we?"

Hermione smiles as she extends a hand towards him, "I'm Hermione Granger. You are?"

"Draco," he smiles. "Draco Malfoy."

She smiles Broadly at him and he wants her all over again.

LIke that night after the ball.

Like that night he had his wand at her throat.

_August 8, 2019_

"Why did you do it?"

Her tone is clipped and he isn't sure if he likes it.

"What are you getting at? Spit it out already Granger."

They have been dancing around this all night. Ambling the halls together and now, when he goes to make his leave she wants to talk. To ask all the hard questions that he knows he has all the wrong answers too.

"That night. Why?"

"You're going to have to be more specific. There are many nights that I did many inappropriate things. Care to elaborate for me?" He pulls at his collar.

"You kissed me…" she whispers as she pulls her arms across her chest. Draco looks at her, he hates it. Her hair, her clothes, the way she clutches her stomach like she can actually feel it. His eyes shift to her head and if his heart still beat it would seize and surely crack at the sight.

She is still beautiful, she truly hasn't aged a day. Her face is how he remembers it that day, her hair almost the same if it weren't for the silver shine and the thin rivulet that traces down her neck. He did more than kiss her that night.

Sometimes he almost forgets they both are dead.

He just wants to reach out and touch her.

"No Granger, I killed you."

She steps forward and extends her hand to him, he wants to take it, wants to hold her.

"No," she says and it is reaffirming.

_September 1, 2019_

Draco paces. Or at the very least it is akin to pacing. The wall to his left is sold as he places his fingers against it. He doesn't phase through it.

He paces.

"Are you going to stand there all night or are you going to help me?" Draco snaps.

Marcus Flint steps from the shadows, his teaching robes flowing behind him, he had just left Slytherin's first practice of the new term.

"Why do you need my help? You are doing a perfect job of making an arse of yourself." Flint smiles.

"I can't exactly use magic in my current state can I?" Draco runs a hand down his face.

"What are you looking for in an abandoned corridor Malfoy?"

"I just want a place for her and I…"

Flint nods, like he knows, like he has known for a long time now.

The wall behind him shifts.

_December 24, 2019_

****

“Will you attend?"

His voice is harsh from behind her, like he has been fighting sleep, but she knows that is a lie. Hermione's eyes fall towards the unopened invitation on her desk, her fingers curling at the sight of it.

"Will you attend?" His voice more demanding.

Of course she will.

"Yes, I believe it is customary for all teaching staff to attend." Hermione curls her fingers once more, the temperature of the room drops as he steps closer to her.

"I'm just afraid," she whispers, her voice small. "I have nothing appropriate to wear."

"Nonsense, you will always be beautiful," he whispers harshly in her ear before he turns and leaves.

Hermione ambles through the halls, Draco's voice still in her ear. She knew this day would come, knew a letter would invite her, she just never knew she would be here to experience it.

She turns a corner, her thoughts carrying her through the castle. She rounds another and then she sees him, his hair a fire against the blue sky.

She knew they would be coming, she just never expected he would be the first to arrive.

Her arms wrap around her center as Ron stares down at her. She feels trapped, exposed, so incorporeal under his gaze and all she wants to do was turn and flee. 

They exchange pleasantries. He has aged, his chin covered in stubble and yet his eyes remained the same.

"Blimey 'Mione, you haven't aged a day."

She places a stray curl behind her ear and smiles into the sun before she quickly stares down at her trainers.

"You came for the ball?" She croaks.

"I came to see you," his hands fiddle in his pockets.

It was nonsense. A lie. She had been here years and today of all days he appears.

"Why are you still here?"

"I teach here Ronald, or have you forgotten?"

"You lie." He snaps. "You are here for him."

Her eyes narrowed.

“Please leave," she hates that her voice shakes.

"I was perfectly content with my situation until you came along.”

She wants to be upset with him, wants to shove her hands in his chest and push him.

“You spoil everything, you haven't changed at all."

"He is dead Hermione. He is gone," Ron's voice is soft and he speaks, "We told you not to fall in love with him."

Her fingers curl tighter around her center. She died that day too, she thinks, she has never been the same. Hermione turns from him, no longer able to bare to look at him a second longer.

Ron sighs, his shoulders slouching as he turns and walks away. She turns and watches him recede as her arms unwrap from around her center.

"I thought you were there.” Hermione turns in Draco’s direction, “It's always colder when you are near, even with the sun rising."

Draco steps closer to her and her fingers curl tightly into herself once more.

"I would have done it." He says.

Hermione looks up at him.

The right side of his face so beautiful, every bit the youthful boy that she remembers. The left is burned, the skin above his left brow missing, his left ear a shimmering trickle of blood.

"No," she confirms. Reaching out her hand to his.

He leaves her as he turns and walks away.

_December 25, 1994_

"You spoil everything!"

Her tears are hot in her eyes, her perfect night ruined. She slouches into the staircase and pulls off your shoes, stretching her toes against the cold stone.

"Weasel finally done it then? Got the Golden girl in a tizzy."

"Sod off Malfoy." She says as she wipes the tears from her eyes, she doesn't even bother to turn around.

"He is stupid." His voice is cold, harsh, like how water cuts through steel.

She stands and turns and she feels a fire burn inside her as she stares him down. She sees his face pull into a smug smirk and she wants to scream out him, spit out all the hate and hurt that she has held onto.

But, she isn't prepared she thinks, no never prepared when it came to him.

"He is stupid if he thinks you can't bag an oaf like Krum looking like that." Draco pulls at his collar. Hermione feels her cheeks betray her as blush creeps across her skin. He moves closer to her and she backs away, until her back collided with the wall.

"You are beautiful," he confesses. "And all I've wanted to do tonight is kiss you."

Hermione steps towards him, she can smell him and he smells like parchment and spearmint.

"Kiss me…" she breathes.

"Yes," his voice growls and he reaches for her.

His fingers thick on her wrists as he presses her to the wall. There are noises behind them, students leaving the ball and he doesn't care.

His wand is in his hand in an instant and he mumbled something she can't hear, but she does hear the wand clatter to the ground.

"Since you walked down these steps, since the World Cup, since your fist hit my face," he hisses at her. "That's how long I've wanted to do this."

Hermione feels his tongue on her neck and she sighs. It's hot and wet and it makes something slither through her belly. Her fingers clench at the front of his robes as his lips find the corner of her mouth.

"Let your hair down Granger." His voice was thick with something she has never experienced, but she nods and pulls at the knots at the base of her head until her hair tumbles free.

She can smell her soap and it encases them, their very own bubble of gardenias.

"Merlin, you are intoxicating…"

She is high on something, she doesn't know, but her body is humming with his fingers on her and her mind spinning with the thought that Draco Malfoy wants her.

Her. Hermione Granger. Gryffindor Princess.

Mudblood.

"I wish…"

She feels him sigh and his fingers move from her wrists to trail up her legs, pulling her dress higher with every movement.

"I wish our lives were different. That there could be a place that I could do this," he kisses her lips and she sees white. Its blinding and warm, like his tongue and teeth.

"A place where I can hold you…"

Her hips bucked forward. His hand is so close now. So close.

"Please…" she sighs into his mouth.

Her kickers vanish and the cool winter air hits her center and she cant help but hiss. It feels so good against her wet core, so open and exposed, ready for him.

He is tentative at first, but she had spent the last year and a half shagging her fingers and has always been left unsatisfied.

"Don't worry," she reassures him. "Touch me…"

She wants to die when his fingers find her clit.

She looks over his shoulder as she clutches him close. His fingers working at her, she helps him as she swirls her hips in tight little circles.

Zabini, Nott and Flint exit the Great Hall and she stops.

His fingers never waver and her throat betrays her as a low groan is pulled from her throat. They should stop, this is wrong, if someone was smart they would see.

 _No!_ A lion roars inside of her as Draco flicks her center and presses two fingers inside of her.

"Yes…" she sighs into his shoulder as he pumps his fingers inside of her. She is helpless, her leg thrown over his hip, his leg bracing her. All she can do is feel and she fuck herself down against his hand and be left to shiver everytime his knuckles brush her clit.

Her eyes are open and they don't leave the three boys in front of her. She wants them to leave.

"Draco…" she moans as his calloused thumb plays with her. She squeezes her eyes closed.

They fly open a second later and Marcus Flint is staring at her. His eyes boring into hers. He can see them. They need to stop.

"Faster." She commands as she twists her hips and slithers her hand down her front to play.

"Fuck Granger…" he has placed his head on her shoulder and he can see her pull at her tits, the way her fingers traces 'S's' and 'M's' over her swollen clit, the way her stomach ripples as his fingers hit a spot inside her that he desperately wants his cock to touch.

She is so close, so close. There is a blackness that is pulling along her vision and it speckles as a mixture between pain and pleasure blossoms across her left breast. Her fingers dig into her, his never stop until her bones unravel and she hears her voice echo off the now empty walls.

"Draco… Draco.. Draco…"

When her fit hit the ground she wonders how much cunts have squeezed those fingers, but the thought quickly vanishes as he places them in his mouth and sucks. She spies her knickers half hanging from his trouser pocket and he is hard and wet.

"Till next time Granger," he kisses her forehead. "And remember, it will be my turn."

That night in her four poster bed she plans for the next time that never came.

_December 25, 2019_

Hermione looks towards the mirror, it is bright and blinding. She brushes her fingers through her think curls, the left side of her head a mangled mess of hair and no matter how hard she tries it will not be tamed.

The Great Hall is filled with students, its buzzing with life, and as she descends the stairs memories of a past life creep through her thoughts. She turns about the room, smiles at Pavla Moyes, as Darius Flint bows to her and offers his hand.

"May I?"

She turns and he is there, his hand extended towards hers and she simply stares at it as she nods her head.

They turn on the dance floor, half circles and then back again as the music silently ebbs. Hermione reaches for the side of her head and pats at the angry curls that won't stay tamed.

"Leave it," he steps closer and she feels her hands wrap around herself. "You are beautiful."

She feels his eyes on her.

"I have to show you something," he confesses. "There isn't much time before it disappears again." She stares at his outstretched fingers, looks right through them to the stone.

He turns and she follows.

They turn left, then right. Right again and she is thick on his heels. He pivots left and she follows, traces the path of air he leaves behind, she shivers. He stops so suddenly that she passes through him, ghost through ghost. She can feel his aura, feel how, whatever he is made from, pulls at her, clings to her, like its claiming her.

He turns to look at her and she sees a small smile split across his face. She waits for him to speak and when he doesn’t, she fidgets, worries the inside of her lip and she wants to bite down and feel it.

“I’ve asked it everyday,” Draco says and she realizes that there is nothing that could have prepared her for him to speak. “Every single day,” he repeats, like she needs to know his dedication. “Everyday, I’ve asked it the same question.”

Confusion ripples through her and he sees it on her face. To the left of them she sees the wall shift and it morphs into something like a door, but it isn't, it is a mirror. It is brilliantly beautiful, lined in pearls and velvet.

 _The Room of Requirement_ , she thinks and he nods, like he could hear her. 

Draco moves forward and passes through the mirror and he changes right before her eyes. His shoulders expand, his neck thickens, his hair now slightly longer. When he turns and looks back at her it is her voice that clamps between her throat. He is different now, he is solid and firm. He extends a hand towards her and when she stares into his eyes they beg her.

 _Take my hand_ , his eyes whisper in the space between them.

Hermione hesitates. “What did you ask it?” she whispers.

She feels herself float above the cold stone and a cold breeze passes through her and this time she doesn’t shiver. She reaches a hand towards the left side of her head and she brushes it. There is liquid and its silver as it gushes through her palm.

His hand doesn’t waver, but his eyes crinkle, like he is pained, like she should know without a doubt that what he asked for was her. That she should have known no matter what she was beautiful to him.

“For it to give me a place where I can hold you.” his voice is solid and firm. “For us to be how we would be, how we should have been.”

Hermione glides forward, her feet colliding with solid ground for the first time in years and she runs, runs to him.

When she reaches him she studies his face. There are crinkles around his eyes and there is laughter etched along his skin and she knows that this is how he should have been.

He has aged before her very eyes and he is handsome, but then again he always has been.

“Beautiful,” he sighs across her face as he leans down and presses his lips against her hair.

His fingers find her and he squeezes as he guides her towards his body and finally, after so much time has passed, their bones collide.

_December 14th 2044_

"I saw Professor Granger and the ghost of Slytherin House wandering the halls this evening." Deetra Falan giggles. "Shall we see what they are up too?" She wiggles her eyebrows and a group of third year Ravenclaws giggle in unison.

"Quiet your tongue," Saleem Flint scolds as she dog ears a page in her textbook and snaps it closed. Her things fold into her bag and she sticks her tongue out at the group of Ravenclaws.

The First year curfew rings as Saleem shoulders her bag and runs towards the dungeons. She feels tears brewing at the corners of her eyes.

Father told her a story once when she was six or seven. Mother said it was the most beautiful love story she had ever heard.

In the library, the group of Ravenclaw girls giggle as they leave.

The library is now silent, only the faint buzzing of the nearby by monitors echo throughout the room.

The text on the table flips open and the pages flutter until they land on the dog eared page.

_The Battle of Hogwarts_

_The stories and recounts of those who lived:_

Minerva McGonagall:

"I saw them, from a distance. Wands extended, ready to kill. A snake ready to strike and a lion ready to pounce. The castle wall blew in and I found them. His hand in hers, both hiding in each other’s arms.”

_~fin_


End file.
